The star crossed lovers

III

All sorts of questions raced through Davina's mind. No one had ever survived the hellfire. Could she really be the first? Her decision was solid—no regrets—but the fear still crept in, slithering around her resolve.

This was the only way out of the maze. She couldn't feel any connection with him since the day their mate bond shattered. And yet, every second, her mind circled back to him. Was he okay? What was happening to him? She scolded herself internally. Focus, Davina. This is the way out. For you.

"There's always a way," Daeliah's voice cut through her thoughts, almost too nonchalant.

Davina's lips twitched upward. "Always a way?" she muttered, a hint of sarcasm seeping in. "Like somewhere in some forgotten language, buried under lava in a city no one even remembers?" She could almost imagine Daeliah shrugging.

"Well," her wolf retorted, "not today, but, you know, someday."

The absurdity of it all made her chuckle, but only briefly. Her insecurities about Alex clawed at her heart. No matter how hard she tried to deny it, she knew—deep down—the power of the mate bond, the undeniable grip of the Moon Goddess. Yet, she had to let go.

6 AM. Just one more hour. She hadn't seen Lucifer since that argument. Curiosity itched at her. What was behind that gate? Where had he gone?

With a heavy sigh, she dragged herself out of the room and into the endless hallway. The night had been agonizingly long, and sleep was a distant dream.

Turning a corner, a silhouette came into view. Of course. Only Lucifer could manage to look both magnificent and ominous in the dim early morning light, like something out of an old black-and-white movie. His broad, muscular figure stood there, soaking in the last moments of the night before the sun kissed the sky orange. Any second now, the dawn would break, but right now, it was just him, like a living shadow.

"Realize I can read your thoughts, little demon?" His voice, deep and husky, stopped her in her tracks.

Davina shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not thinking anything, Mr. Lucy," she shot back, her tone light but defiant. He hadn't even turned to face her, but she could feel that dark, foreboding aura surrounding him like a cloak.

Her entire life, she had never cared much for anyone's opinions or stories. But this man—this creature—made her curious. How did an angel of heaven fall so far as to become the lord of hell? What had happened to him?

"My story is too dark for you, little wolf," he said, finally turning to face her. His voice was quieter now, almost gentle, but laced with an unspoken warning. "Don't get curious about things you'll never know."

Davina flinched under his gaze, though she tried not to show it. She spoke without thinking. "There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you."

The words hung in the air between them. Where had that come from? She hadn't meant to say it, but now they were out there.

Lucifer was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

"Do you want to spend your last moments with me, little wolf?" he asked, stepping closer. The air around him was cold—freezing, even—but Davina's feet stayed rooted to the spot, despite her instincts screaming at her to run.

"Why are you so sure I can't survive the hellfire?" she shot back, fierce determination flashing in her eyes.

A smirk tugged at his lips as he turned away. "Do you really think you can?" His voice dripped with amusement. "Let me remind you—many gods, demons, beings a hundred times stronger than you—died trying. What makes you think you can?"

His words pierced her like daggers, each one striking deeper than the last.

"There was once a person who survived hell full of the hellfire," a voice echoed in her mind. She took a step back, startled. It wasn't the first time she'd heard it. Where was it coming from?

"Almost seven," Davina muttered, trying to shake off the eerie sensation.

"Eager to die, are we?" Lucifer asked, slipping his hands into his pockets. He couldn't figure out why this little wolf was bothering him so much. Why should he care? Whether she lived or died was her business, not his.

He strode past her, motioning for her to follow. Without hesitation, Davina fell in step behind him, her mind racing as they made their way through the seemingly endless empty corridors.

They stopped in front of the red door—again. But something was off. The last time she saw it, it wasn't in this place. How did it move?

"Last time, it chose you," Lucifer said, as though reading her thoughts. "And this time, you chose it." His words were laced with mystery. "The door leads to hell itself. But before you reach hell, you must pass through the hellfire. It was created by the gods to give people a chance to atone for their sins. The fire decides if you're worthy of forgiveness. If you survive, not only will you gain immense power, but you'll be able to summon it whenever you want. But that's only if the fire accepts you. It will show you your darkest fears, your insecurities. Remember—they are illusions. Don't let them consume you."

Davina's heart pounded in her chest. Why did he say the fire chose her? What did he mean by "people like you"? But she nodded, too scared to ask before her courage slipped away entirely.

"I'll see you in hell if you don't make it, little one," Lucifer said, opening the door for her.

From where she stood, all Davina could see was darkness—thick, endless, terrifying darkness. The more she stared into it, the more she felt like something was staring back. A new kind of fear crawled up her spine.

"You still have an option to back out," Lucifer teased, his tone mocking, yet there was something deeper in his voice.

"No," she whispered, stepping forward. There was no turning back now.